Loyalty (Mage Origin)
by Maleficarum
Summary: Eve Amell was a prodigy at the Circle, and despite being imprisoned her entire life, couldn't ask for anything more. She had it all. However, when Duncan and the Blight came knocking, Eve had no choice but to leave everything behind; even the man she loved. Forced to grow up and save the world, it's no wonder she's got so much trouble staying alive.


Eve Amell tied up her hair, which was always with a red ribbon, and surveyed the trial in front of her. A singular target, a potato sack stuffed with hay, sat on a stool with a bright red bullseye on its center. Her blue eyes flitted back and forth, analyzing. Her gaze flitted briefly to the instructor on her left, and the students on her right. A few were staring with wide eyes or cavernous yawns. One was watching intently; his hands laced tightly together. He smiled.

Eve looked back at the target, her hands dropping and squeezing the air. Tight balls of energy stuck pins in her fingers and palms, shooting down to her toes. She rooted her place, closed her eyes, and imagined the target in her mind. It swam in a pool of darkness, floating. The tight balls of energy swam out to the target, locking it in place. The red bullseye glowed brightly in the sea of black.

Eve's eyes shot open, flashing a violent purple, and she threw both her hands forward. Energy, just as venomously purple as her eyes, darted out and skipped across the ground. The air crackled loudly as the electricity shot across the floor and hit the target, square in the chest. The sack sizzled, burning black and charred.

The instructor and the students broke into a righteous applause. Whoops and hollers came from Eve's friend, Jowan, who smiled even brighter. Enchanter Sylas beamed, rushing over and clapping Eve on the shoulder. "Nicely done Evelyn! Another spectacular example of Lightning Bolt!" He floated over, robes swirling the ground, and started to probe and examine the target. "Notice the focus! The lightning did not arc out or hit any nearby targets…it centralized cleanly on the bullseye…and did not catch aflame! Spectacular work Evelyn!"

Eve grinned, brushing her hands off on her skirt, and joined the other students. A few gave her handshakes of praise, and a few others gave her dirty looks. Jowan enveloped Eve in a great hug, throwing his arms around her neck. She buckled under his weight and pulled him off. "Jowan! I can't breathe with you hugging me that tightly!" She laughed.

"I can't help it! Ooh, I'm so proud of you! Look at how you mastered that bolt…and just the storm school in general. You're always such a master with storms. Maker, you're just—"

"Enough, Jowan, enough!" Eve's face grew warm. "Your praise of me does nothing but enflame my ego! Maker knows I need any more of it." Jowan squinted.

"Evelyn, you know you're spectacular. I'm simply congratulating you, just the same as everyone else!"

"Yes, but with an endless stream of compliments! I'm not totally perfect, as close to it as I might be."

Jowan rolled his eyes, scooping her hand in his and leading her back to the Apprentice's Quarters. Enchanter Sylas clapped his hands, dismissing the lesson for the day. The rest of the students filed out, following Eve and Sylas.

Jowan swung Eve's hand. "You'll have your Harrowing soon enough, I bet. Enchanter Sylas looked so pleased. I bet First Enchanter will approve the request without a glance. He's always had a fondness for you."

Eve laughed again, cheeks burning. They flamed brighter when she saw two templars standing right outside of the quarters.

"Well, that was fast." Jowan muttered. She elbowed him in the side. The two slowed to a walk, releasing hands, and continued calmly toward the quarters. The templar on the left, who had his helmet off, caught Eve's glance and stepped forward.

"Evelyn," He said, and she recognized that it was Cullen. He was handsome, and young, and far more kind than any of the other templars. He also gave her special attention…when freedom allowed it. Their catching of glances caused his cheeks to flush.

Eve smirked at him.

"I-It's time. You've been called to your Harrowing. At dawn. You have ten hours to prepare." Her smirk died to a tight line, and she nodded shortly. Cullen looked a bit worried himself, and although he tried to mask it with a face of impartiality, anybody could see the quiver in his cheek.

"We'll return at half till to escort you. Be ready." The other templar said, starting to head off. He was one of the more senior templars that guarded the Circle, probably named Edward or Eric. Cullen was a fresh recruit in comparison. He was still getting used to keeping a distance from the mages, and treating them like disobedient pets regularly.

Cullen stayed in place, awkwardly rubbing his hands together. Jowan waved them off, heading towards the quarters on his own. Eve rooted to her place, hardly moving as she eyed him up and down. Cullen caught her glance again, and turned beet red. "Congratulations, by the way." He whispered, then coughed. "I mean, congratulations for…your Harrowing…"

"Congratulations aren't in order yet," Eve said with a small smile. "I haven't even completed the Harrowing. I still could die." She hadn't meant to seem so bleak, or so nonchalant about it. Cullen paled.

"I-I know! I mean, I don't want to know—I just… I'm ordered to be standing guard at your Harrowing, specifically. It makes me think they know…about us." He rubbed the back of his neck; a sympathetic, puppy dog gaze in his eyes. Eve could melt under his eyes. There was something so pure, and genuine, and innocent about his infatuation with her. She chalked it up to this: an infatuation. Despite all the pride she held for herself, and her abilities, she wavered under the idea of anybody desiring her in such a matter.

"They might…but they haven't done a thing about it, have they? The worst is my death, probably. I've heard people can _die_ during their Harrowings. Isn't that just—"

"Horrifying?"

"I was going to say _harrowing_ , but I suppose horrifying works as well." Eve broke into a grin, but Cullen saw no humor.

"How can you remain so…light-hearted… about this? I've heard awful things as well, and yet you remain here, so bright and cheery! How do you do it?" Eve bit her cheek, looking down at the ground. Cullen sighed, boldly reaching out a hand to caress the side of her face. The cold metal of his glove electrified her skin, and she looked up at him with doe eyes. It was cheesy, and romantic, and it filled both their hearts with that same electricity.

"Never mind. I love how you do it. You're an inspiration to many." He hummed in her ear, lingering a kiss on the skin below her jaw. Eve shut her eyes, letting the vertigo quickly rush through her body.

Echoing footsteps—the students from their previous class. Eve and Cullen broke away quickly, a similar shade of red blossoming the distance between them. She bit her cheek once more, and gave a humble wave. Cullen nodded curtly, turning on his heel and speeding down the hall. Eve faltered at the doorway, watching him go.

Only deep in the pit of her heart did she truly fear what might result from her Harrowing.


End file.
